


Twelve Weeks+

by mardemaravilla



Series: This Little Life Inside Of You [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Chelsea FC, Love Confessions, M/M, Mpreg, Mystery Character(s), Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:07:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13095942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardemaravilla/pseuds/mardemaravilla
Summary: Fernando knows how much Juan likes him. He's not blind to that. He just doesn't want the media to start hurling accusations that even the real father of his child isn't willing to face. Juan is the only support Fernando has left and if he's driven away from him because of this scandal, Fernando's not sure what he'll do. So he's taking preventative measures while he still can.





	Twelve Weeks+

**Author's Note:**

> This follows immediately after Part 3.
> 
>  **CONTEXT REMINDER:**  
>  This is set in 2012, so Oscar and Ludy have not had kids yet.
> 
> Here are the [2011/2012](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011%E2%80%9312_Chelsea_F.C._season#First_team_squad) and [2012/2013](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012%E2%80%9313_Chelsea_F.C._season#First_team_squad) squad lists, to refresh your memory.

Fernando is hardly home from the press release before his phone flashes a familiar number on the screen. He answers it nervously, but hopefully.

"Hi."

There's no greeting, no warm wishes of good health, no joke or anything to make Fernando smile. Instead, there's a loud voice in an accent made thick with anger.

"What the fuck? _What the fuck?_ I thought we talked about this?! I thought this was decided? Why then did I just see you on my evening news announcing to the world that you're fucking pregnant?!"

Fernando is startled. He imagined a lot of reactions from this man, but never one of absolute outrage.

"I told you, I didn't want to have an abortion, so I—"

"So, _what?_ You thought you'd ruin my life as well as yours? For fuck's sake, Fernando, are you even thinking logically about this? You're a footballer! You travel around the world every fucking week to play games in different countries! How can you possibly expect to be pregnant and still have that?!"

Fernando has thought about it, "I'm not the first athlete to be pregnant, you know. But if I need to choose between being a footballer and a father, then there is no choice."

"Oh my fucking God, do you even hear yourself?! Are you so fucking senseless that you're willing to give up everything you've been working for since you were a child for a stupid one-night stand?"

Fernando's lip trembles. He had hoped that what they had could be more than that, but hearing this anger, bearing the brunt of this rage shatters any illusions that Fernando has of this man loving him or wanting him, even in secret, ever again.

"Fuck this. Fuck this and fuck _you_. You might be willing to destroy your family and your career for one drunk fumble in the dark, but not me. You don't want to have an abortion? Fine. Fine, then don't, but you keep my fucking name out of this or I swear to God, Fernando, _I swear to God_. I don't need another child, so you better not make the mistake of calling my name anywhere in this mess or it'll be the last thing you do. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Fernando?! Answ—"

Fernando hurls his phone across the room and finds the crash it makes against the wall unsatisfying and hollow. He wants to pick it up and throw it again and again, wants to destroy everything in his sight, wants to break everything until it's all as broken as he is.

-

In spite of Fernando's request for privacy, the media has a field day with his announcement. It ranges from pictures of his small but glowing smile during the conference on the back page of newspapers with the expected ' _Torres: PREGNANT_ ' headline, to blurred images of him and someone else splashed across the front cover of tabloids with bold red ink proclaiming that the unclear figure of Sergio, Juan, Mourinho, or even his brother Israel is the father of his child.

When Juan came home to find the shards of Fernando's mobile littered across the floor, he took it upon himself to extract the SIM card and get Fernando a new phone. Fernando wishes he hadn't, because now it won't stop ringing. Everyone he knows has phoned at least twice, left so many voice messages that his mailbox is full, sent text after text hoping to hear from the striker and Fernando wants none of it. He spends his days lying on the bed in Juan's guest room, crying and sleeping.

"This isn't healthy, Fer," Juan scolds gently one evening. "Think about the baby. It's not good to be down like this."

"You sound like my father," Fernando mumbles.

"That's because I care about you." Juan sits next to Fernando and rubs his shoulder soothingly, "Come, let's go out for dinner with David and Oscar. They miss you. You don't take their calls or answer their texts. A little company and a change of scenery will be good for you and the baby."

After much persuasion, Fernando agrees and Juan makes arrangements with the Brazilians while Fernando showers. They go out to Oscar's favourite Italian restaurant and Fernando is quiet at first, but he slowly comes alive in the company of his friends.

"Soon it will be Ludy's turn, right?" Fernando teases.

Oscar blushes and laughs, "No, no, I'm not ready. The dog is enough responsibility; I can't manage much more right now."

David slings an arm across Fernando's shoulder and jerks a thumb in Oscar's direction, "If I don't remind him to pack underwear when we go abroad for matches, do you think he remembers?"

"David!" Oscar throws his napkin at the curly-haired man in embarrassment.

"And then who has to go shopping with him? Me, of course," David finishes with a dramatic sigh and Juan and Fernando are laughing themselves to tears.

After they've eaten, David reaches out and places his palm on the flat plane of Fernando's belly and shakes his head in awe.

"I can't believe that there's a person growing inside of you, Nandinho. It's so fantastic. There are so many people around the world who want so badly to have a baby and can't. You've been blessed."

Fernando smiles at David, but it's a sad smile and he shrugs, "It's a blessing that comes at a high cost."

David shakes his head, "It wouldn't come to you if it wasn't meant for you. Have faith, Nandinho. Just do your best for this little one."

David hugs him tightly and Fernando hooks his arms around David's broad shoulders, burying himself in the wild curls and steadying friendship.

-

His feeling of calm is shattered the next day when he wakes up to find a trio of photos from last night circulating on the internet. They would be innocent enough when taken in context, but of course they aren't. Juan and Oscar have been cropped out of all of the images so that it's just Fernando and David. David has his arm slung around Fernando's shoulder in the first shot, leaning in close as he speaks; in the second picture the two are smiling at fondly each other, with David's hand pressed against Fernando's belly; in the last picture Fernando's head rests on David's shoulder as the two embrace. _'Proud Papas'_ , the caption reads, and it spreads rapidly through every form of social media. He phones David at once and apologises profusely on the phone.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I knew that going out last night was a bad idea. I'm so sorry that they're dragging you into this, David. I never meant for this to happen."

"Nandinho, it's okay. Please, calm down. It's okay. I'm handling it."

"Handling it? What do you mean?"

"I just made mention of it on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook. I said that we were out for dinner with Juan and Oscar and while I'm not the other father, I am a friend and you have all my support during this exciting time."

Fernando sighs and sinks into the corner of the couch.

"I'm really sorry, David."

"It's okay," the Brazilian repeats. "Really, I'm not even bothered by it. I just hope that the other _pai_ isn't too offended by all the wild guesses the media is making."

Fernando makes a small noise of acknowledgement, but he says nothing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" David tries, but after a moment of prolonged silence he says. "I know you and Juan are close, but if you ever feel like you can't talk to him, I want you to know that you can always come to me, Nandinho."

Fernando thanks him and wishes him well, apologising once more before hanging up the phone. It's not long before it rings and Oscar's name lights up the screen.

"Hey Nandinho, how is everything?"

"It's a mess. I just got off the phone with David and he's dealing with it well, but still…why did I even bother asking for privacy? It's like they hear what I say but they don't understand, you know? It's like I'm speaking Spanish to them."

Oscar consoles him, "It's okay; some other story will come up and the media will move on like it always does. And don't worry about David's family, they'll settle down soon too."

"David's family?" Fernando asks. "What happened with his family?"

Oscar stutters for a moment on the phone, "Oh…I…I should—"

"Oscar, what happened?"

The young man hesitates, caught awkwardly, but he reveals the truth with a quiet sigh, "His parents were just concerned about the rumours. That's all. They just phoned him to ask about it."

Fernando is familiar with Oscar's gift of understatement, and his mind helpfully floods with images of David pacing back and forth in his London apartment, emphatically trying to explain to his parents why he was tenderly caressing the Spaniard's stomach.

"Fuck," Fernando groans.

"He really didn't tell you?" Oscar asks sheepishly.

"No. I just came off the phone with him and he said everything was fine and that he wasn't bothered by the rumours." Fernando feels hurt and lied to in spite of David's kind goodbye. "Why wouldn't he just tell me?"

"He probably didn't want to upset you," Oscar reasons. "You have a lot going on as it is and you shouldn't be worrying about anything right now. You should be taking it easy so that your baby can be happy and healthy."

Fernando switches his phone off when he hangs up with Oscar. He feels awful. He thinks of David's parents seeing pictures of their son caring for a pregnant man whose family is leaving him. He wonders if they are embarrassed or ashamed. He wonders if they've been fielding calls from their own friends and family enquiring whether or not their religious son had abandoned all the teachings of his faith and gotten a married man pregnant. He wonders if the Brazilian tabloids are dragging David's name through the mud, dredging up any pictures of the two men from goal celebrations or victorious finals to use in the concocted story of their love affair.

Fernando can't help the bitterness that rises within him. All of this is his fault. If he hadn't been so stupid and so weak with desire for the man who gave him this child then none of this would have happened. He wouldn't be losing his career. He wouldn't be losing his friends. He wouldn't be losing his wife and his kids.

He's lost everyone and everything important to him, and as Fernando sits on Juan's couch and cries unhappily, he suddenly realises that it's not good for him to be around the young midfielder either.

_He'll only get hurt. He'll only get dragged into this the way David has been._

Fernando won't have Juan's name sullied by the media, and so he resolves to move out of Juan's apartment. Olalla and the children are staying at the house in Surrey, so Fernando decides to leave Juan's 11th-floor condominium and finally move downstairs to the 9th-floor condo that he owns.

 

When Juan comes home from an interview and finds all of Fernando's things stacked by the door, he doesn't take it well.

"Where are you going?!"

"I thought it was time for me to move back to my own place." Fernando doesn't meet Juan's eyes as he throws his shoes into a bag, "I really needed the company after Olalla asked me to move out, and I can't thank you enough for how supportive you've been. I'm sorry that I stayed here so long. It's stupid when I think about it; I could have just stayed in the condo downstairs this whole time and not been a burden to you—"

Juan cuts him off with a shocked voice, " _A burden?_ Fernando, you're not a burden. Why are you going? Stay here. Stay with me. I'll look after you."

Fernando shakes his head stubbornly, "I don't need looking after, Juan. And besides, I'm just two floors down. I can ring you if there's anything."

"What if you can't ring me? What if something happens and you can't? Fer—Fernando, I don't want you by yourself."

"If something happened to me here and I couldn't ring you it would be the same thing. And besides, I'm not by myself. It's me and the baby. We'll be okay."

Juan stands forlornly in the entryway of his home and the dismay on his face is enough to make Fernando's already aching heart clench with anguish.

"It's the other dad, isn't it? He doesn't want you to stay with me? Does he think that there's something going on between us?"

Fernando zips up his duffel bag.

"This is my choice, Juan. It's better if I go back to my apartment. I'm just downstairs. Really, it'll be okay. You can come by anytime you want, but it's just better this way. You need your space too, you know?"

"I don't need any space," Juan protests. "Fer, if I didn't want you here I would have asked you to go, but I haven't. _I wouldn't_. Don't leave."

Fernando shakes his head again and carries his duffel bag and a grocery bag of books and shoes over to the elevator. Juan follows him, pleading quietly.

"Did I do something? Did I offend you? Fer, please. I'm sorry. I just want to be here for you. I don't want to hurt you."

The elevator chime sounds its arrival and Fernando holds the door open as he puts his things inside.

"You haven't. It's just…it's better like this. We'll have dinner sometime, okay? I promise. For now, just go back inside and enjoy your nice, quiet apartment."

Juan wrinkles his forehead and opens his mouth once more to speak, but the door slides shut and Fernando is left on his own inside the small elevator car.

He slumps against the mirrored wall and sighs unhappily.

He knows that Juan is hurt. Juan has been nothing but caring and attentive to Fernando even before he got pregnant. Fernando knows how much Juan likes him. He's not blind to that. He just doesn't want the media to start hurling accusations that even the real father of his child isn't willing to face. Juan is the only support Fernando has left and if he's driven away from him because of this scandal, Fernando's not sure what he'll do. So he's taking preventative measures while he still can.

When the elevator stops on the 9th floor, Fernando unlocks the door to his apartment and stares around. There's a pile of toys left on the carpet from the last time Leo and Nora were there. There's an extra dog-leash hanging over the back of the door. Olalla's favourite pea coat is hanging up in the hallway closet. There are pictures and drawings stuck to the fridge door by magnets.

Fernando leaves everything he's carrying in the hallway and walks slowly through his empty home. In Nora's room, he curls up on her little princess bed and not even a single tear comes to relieve his sorrow.

-

Juan doesn't give up.

In spite of Fernando's delayed responses to phone calls and texts, or his polite rejection of invitations to dinner, movies or grocery shopping, the midfielder persists.

Fernando wakes up one morning to find a slip of white paper pushed under his door.

 _I'm sorry_ , Juan's messy scrawl reads. _I know sometimes I can come on too strong and I'm not subtle at all, but the truth is that I'm crazy about you. You know that. Even if you haven't guessed it yourself, I know one of the guys from the team must have told you because they tease me all the time about it. It's not a secret, and that never bothered me before._

_Now that there's someone else in your life, I worry that you might think I'm a problem. I'm okay with it, really. Well, truthfully, not okay, because it does hurt, but I can't force you to have feelings for me. I respect you and your decisions, whatever they might be. If you want to be with this man, then I wish you all the happiness in the world, Fer. I just don't want you to shut me out because I would hate to lose your friendship after all that we've shared over the years._

_I'm sorry if it seems like I'm harassing you. I'll back off, I promise. I just wanted to clear the air between us. You mean more to me than anything, Fernando. I really hope we can work this out._

_With all my heart,  
J_

Fernando texts Juan. _Come over for dinner. 7pm._

He spends a large part of the day working through the recipe to make _fabada Asturiana_. It's Juan's favourite dish and making it is the best apology he can think of.

Juan arrives at seven exactly and Fernando serves the food so that they can talk over dinner.

"You didn't have to go through all this trouble," Juan murmurs quietly as he stirs his stew.

"It doesn't taste good?" Fernando asks.

"It tastes fine," Juan says. "Maybe it could use some more salt, but otherwise it's perfect."

Fernando frowns down at the steaming meal, "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to take it easy on the salt."

"Don't be sorry. How is the baby? Are you still throwing up?"

Fernando nods, but otherwise ignores what Juan has said.

"And I'm sorry for this whole thing. I'm sorry for making you think that it was your fault that I don't want you around."

Juan's faces falls, "You really don't want me around?"

"I do, but it's just…" Fernando sighs and puts his cutlery down. "I don't know if you heard, but David's parents were upset about the tabloid pictures of him and me. He had to do a lot of explaining and he didn't even tell me about it. Oscar was the one who accidentally told me. I just felt so horrible that the media pounced on him like that, and I felt even worse that he didn't want to talk to me about it. I don't want that to happen again."

"Is that what this is? You're trying to protect me from the media?"

"We're so close. It wouldn't take much for them to assume that this child is yours and after the thing with David's family, I don't want that happening to you."

Juan shakes his head, "They're already making assumptions, Fer. It doesn't matter. I'm not afraid of the media. Besides, whether we talk or don't talk, the press is never going to change. They're always going to want to know who it is, and until you tell them, they're going to make every guess they can."

Fernando sighs and chews morosely on a piece of pork. After dinner, Juan insists on clearing away the dishes, so Fernando goes out onto his narrow balcony to look at the London skyline. When Juan joins him, standing silently at his elbow, Fernando finds the strength to speak again.

"I'm doing this alone."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to be the only father this baby has, and I worry that the media backlash…the things they will say, I worry that it will drive you away."

"Fernando," Juan smiles, and the genuine warmth of it makes Fernando's heart hurt. "I love you. I'm _in love_ with you. I always have been, and I think I always will be. I doubt there's much that could change that." Fernando's lower lip quivers and Juan steps closer and twines their fingers together. "Nothing the press says could ever drive me away from you. I'm not going anywhere unless you ask me to."

Fernando doesn't ask him to. He just stands there on his balcony wishing, _wishing_ that he could be somebody worth the love of Juan Manuel Mata García.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't this "mystery guy" just the biggest dick?? Ugh. I hate him.  
> But Juan makes everything better.


End file.
